


needed

by the13thCaretaker



Category: Chronicles of the Imaginarium Geographica - James A. Owen
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, it's 2 freaking a.m.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-24 05:17:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12005844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the13thCaretaker/pseuds/the13thCaretaker
Summary: look i was feeling angsty, so i drew an angsty thing, and then i wrote an angsty thing for the drawing of the angsty thing. charles goes through some serious stuff. john and jack worry.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> look it was the middle of the night and now its even later in the middle of the night, so there is no decent explanation for how or why they got stuck in this situation. nor are there any cool intentional references to anything else. i just needed to write this, so here it is. have fun.

It was an endless loop; open eyes, fight shadows, watch them die. Where he was changed, but it was always somewhere he loved, only pitched into yawning blackness and broken down. The Press building in ashes, a rotting Bird and the Baby, his own house falling to pieces. Every place he felt safe and at home, sitting in ruined heaps. Then the monsters would come, and they would change too. They would be Wendigo one time, Shadowborn another, and then just shadows. They would rush him, tugging at his arms and legs and hair and he would struggle against them and fight. Sometimes he had a sword, and he would kill a few. Then a friend would manifest, calling to him for help. Who it was would change too; first John, then Jack, Tummeler, Bert, Aven. Each time he tried to save them, and each time he failed.

They were torn apart by the Wendigo, their shadows were ripped from them, or they were choked in the darkness. Every time, whatever creatures attacked would finish killing them, then turn to him and speak in sync with each other in a voice that sounded hauntingly like his own. It told him he couldn’t save them, he would never be able to, and what good was he as a Caretaker if he couldn’t even do a simple thing like that? He got in the way, they’d be fine without him. They’d probably be better off. What use had they of a Third who could barely translate more than a couple languages, or pick up a pen without his hands shaking? None. Whatever monster it was would come and take him too, and he was swallowed up by darkness and a lonely cold.

 

And then, his eyes would happen and it would repeat.

And with each cycle, he started to believe it just a little more.

 

* * *

 

“John, we have to get to him,” Jack said for the third time.

“I know! I know, Jack,” John said, coming to a halt in his pacing. “What do you suggest we do then? We’ve tried everything, but there’s no getting out of this cell.”

He waved his arms around the cramped space for emphasis.

“We could try shouting for the guard and then jump him when he comes,” Jack suggested.

“I doubt he’ll come down for just anything,” John said doubtfully.

“If one of us fakes being hurt, they just might. Remember what the witch said? She wanted two of us alive for his next ‘experiment,’” Jack reminded him.

“That is true… alright, won’t hurt to try it.”

No sooner than the words leave John’s mouth, did Jack suddenly let loose a loud howl and promptly flung his full body weight into his companion. John grunted and held him up under his armpits. 

“ _Knew your dramatic flair was good for something_ ,” he muttered under his breath before shouting out as well. “Help! HELP!! Something’s wrong with Jack!”

Jack let out another wail for good measure.

As Jack had predicted a guard did come running. “Wassa matter with ‘im?” 

“He’s dying, that’s what!” cried John. He nearly dropped his companion as Jack groaned and let John hold up his dead weight.

“Jus’ a minute, jus’ a minute,” started the guard in alarm. He fumbled with the keys and threw open the barred doors. As soon as he had run over, Jack sprung up and clocked him on the head, efficiently knocking him out. They dragged him to the far corner of the cell and took the keys. Without wasting another precious second, they sprinted out of the cell to find Charles.

 

* * *

 

His eyes snapped open and drank in the scene before him. His heart clenched at the sight of the wrecked Indigo Dragon. The mast was fallen over the side, with the sail draped in tatters, but worst of all was the head of the dragon had been torn in half. It might have been more bearable if it was completely gone, instead of one hollow eye seemingly staring into his soul. He wanted to cry.

The air was drained of any warmth it possibly had and Charles stiffened as he prepared for his next hopeless battle. The cold, white hands of Shadowborn clawed at him and he jerked away in disgust and terror. Claustrophobia set in as they surrounded him, closing in on all sides, and not leaving any room for escape. He wished they’d just take his damned shadow and get it over with already.

“Charles!” came the voice. No… there was two this time. Jack and John, both calling his name. That was new. Shouldn’t it be one or the other? This was going to be worse, losing them both at once? His knees threatened to buckle.

He let out a frustrated, yet anguished, cry as the long fingers of the Shadow born wrapped around his arms and yanked them behind his back. He could feel the cold of each finger sink through his sleeves, through his skin, and into his bones. It was worse when a hand gripped his hair and forced his head forward. Now he could see Jack and John, several yards opposite him, screaming his name.

 

* * *

 

Jack skidded to a halt after entering the cavernous throne room of the witch. The sight before him filled him with terror, rage, and desperation all at once. The witch was standing in the middle of the room, arms outstretched, and chanting in a strange language neither Jack or John had heard before. Tendrils of a black mist-like substance were flowing from her fingertips and into the air… 

… surrounding a floating Charles, and appeared to be flowing into his ears.

“Let him go!” 

John’s demand echoed off the walls and the witch snapped her head in their direction, eyes flaring a dangerously bright green. She smiled, revealing a row of pointed teeth.

“Mmm, my plan was to finish with this one, and then try the two of you at once, before finally all three of you. Build up my strength, as is proper, right boys?” she hissed. “But i think, I might as well try all three of you know, since your here.”

“I doubt you can build up your strength without resting properly,” snarled Jack.

The witch’s eyes flashed again, and she waved a hand in their direction. They both flew back and hit the wall behind them. Charles screamed and his body convulsed.

______________________________________________________________________

 

Jack and John were flung back by their shadows, and pulled along like puppets, all the while crying for him to help. Charles thrashed against the arms that held him and screamed for them to be let go.

“Save them,” came the voice.

He screamed again in desperation and hot tears ran down his face.

_ He couldn’t let them die, he couldn’t let them die, he couldn’t let them die. _

Their shadows were ripped from them and they fell limply to the deck. Charles stopped his struggle in shock. That wasn’t right, he didn’t even get a chance this time. 

“No! _Nooo_!” he shouted.

“That was pathetic,” said the voice, “You didn’t even try.”

“I did!” Charles cried out desperately, “I did.”

Tummeler appeared next to John and Jack and a thrill of desperate hope flared through Charles’ chest.

“Tummeler! The shield, we have to put the shield on Aunt Dora’s box remember? And then- and then someone-someone will fix the shadows,” he said, faltering his words. Who was going to fix the shadows? Didn’t Jack do that?

The badger didn’t answer, only stared blankly at him.

“Scowler Charles?” he asked.

“Yes, yes, Tummeler, it’s me, it’s Scowler Charles.”

Tummeler furrowed his brows in confusion. “Why didn’t you save Scowlers John and Jack?”

“I still can, Tummeler, I still can. They just need the shadows back!”

“I don’ think those is going to help,” Tummeler said.

Charles looked at John and Jack again, and a small gasp escaped his lips. 

They were really, properly dead. If the shadows were replaced it wouldn’t help. But how did that happen? There wasn’t time between just a few moments ago and now.

“We should have never trusted you. I shouldn’t have trusted you,” Tummeler spoke.

The air practically filled with the sound of Charles’ heart shattering. “What? Tummeler?”

“What good are you? You aren’t even a proper Oxford Scowler.”

Charles sagged in the arms of the shadowborn. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. But the badger didn’t answer and the tears hanging in the lids of Charles’ eyes spilled out and dropped onto the wooden boards of the deck.

Suddenly the boards disappeared, the hands holding him dissipated into the air, and he was falling in blackness. He didn’t feel anything when he landed, but voices echoed around him.

It was Jack and John again.

“Charles! Charles can you hear me?” Jack was calling.

Yes, he could, but he wasn’t going to do anything about it. They were better off without him, and he couldn’t bare to see them die again. He fell to the ground and simply lay there, letting tears slide down his face and drop onto the cold floor.

 

* * *

 

Jack had, once again, been right. The witch had gotten weaker with her’ experiment’ and John was able to bind her. Charles had fallen to the floor, unconscious, and his two companions had sprinted to him. 

“Charles! Charles, can you hear me?” Jack said desperately, pulling the lanky man, into his arms. 

“Come on, Charles,” urged John, “Come back to us.”

There was a moment of dead quiet… and then,

“No….” Charles’ voice was almost inaudible. “...you’re dead.”

“No, Charles, we’re not,” Jack said, shaking his shoulders slightly. Charles’ head only lolled in response.

“Charles?” Jack asked.

John reached over and held his fingers to his pulse point and his own heart almost dropped. Jack looked at him expectantly, eyes showing the fear of the answer. 

Silence was answer enough. 

“Charles!” shouted Jack, “Charles, you bastard! Don’t die on me! We’re alive! We’re alive, do you hear me?! We’re alive and we need you, damn it! Don’t leave us like this!”

Jack’s voice broke and a sob ended his outburst. He gathered the limp Charles up closer to his chest and cried into his friend. John sank lower onto his knees next to them, feeling very hollow.

“We need you, we need you, we need you, please don’t leave us, please don’t leave me, not you,” Jack whispered repeatedly through his shaking sobs and tears.

John looked up and at his friend’s face, then blinked at did a double take. Had Charles’ eyes just… fluttered?

“Jack-,” John started, but was cut off by Charles inhaling sharply and coughing. 

The coughing developed into a full on hacking fit and the two companions maneuvered Charles so that he was not on his back. The black substance that the witch had been controlling exited out of his mouth and dissipated into the air. Charles collapsed onto the ground, wheezing and taking in huge gulps of air. 

“Charles?!” Jack and John exclaimed in unison, quickly helping him into a better position. He stared at both of them with wide eyes, gripping Jack’s sleeve with one hand and the front of John’s jacket with his other.

“I couldn’t reach you,” he said, hoarsely. Tears filled his eyes as he pressed his hand over John’s chest and gripped Jack’s wrist.  Tears of relief fell as he felt both heartbeats. He slumped into both of them as they wrapped their arms around him. He sank into embrace, soaking in their utter warmth and their beating hearts.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for the love of sea turtles

He didn’t let go of them the whole way back to the ship, and started crying again at the sight of a perfectly healthy Dragonship, her captain, and the captain’s father. 

Bert immediately was at their sides, asking what the devil had happened and trying to help Charles keep his footing. Though the taller man had been overjoyed to see his mentor, any move that would separate him from John or Jack, sent him into a frenzy. He jerked away and  practically fell into John, who was quick to steady him and keep him upright. 

“Charles, Charles look at me,” John said in a calm tone. He put his hands on Charles’ shoulders and looked his friend in the eyes. John was startled by the sheer terror that was in them. He had seen him nervous and fearful, but nothing so frightened as this.

“See me?” John asked. “I’m alright.”

He took Charles’ hand and put it to the side of his face. “Feel that? I’m okay. Now look at Jack,” he said, gently turning him around by the shoulders. John could feel him trembling. “Jack’s alright too.”

Jack nodded gently and repeated what John had done.

John turned Charles to face him once more and looked him in the eyes. “Now say it outloud. ‘Jack and John are okay.’”

Charles stared silently back into John’s eyes. 

John waited.

Charles swallowed. “Jack and John… are okay,” he said slowly.

“Jack and John are safe,” John said.

“Jack and John are safe.”

“I am safe.”

“I am safe,” Charles repeated.

They continued like that for several more minutes until John was satisfied that at least most of the uncertainty was gone from his friend. Then he and Jack guided Charles below so that he could lay down and rest. John made sure that he was comfortable with everything and kept a sharp eye out to see if anything would send him into a panic. Apart from the trembling and darting eyes, Charles showed no sign of discomfort.

“Do you want the lights out?” John asked, after they had settled him into a bed.

Apparently that could cause panic.

Charles shot upright and flattened himself against the wall, shaking his head vigorously. 

“Alright, alright,” John said quickly, “We’ll leave them on. It’s alright.”

He lowered Charles back onto the bed and pulled the covers up to his shoulders.

“I’ll light a new lamp, these ones are getting low,” John said, “Jack’s going to help me, alright?”

When Charles nodded slightly in agreement, John got up and subtly pulled Jack with him. He had noticed the lost look on Jack’s face.

“ _ Are _ you okay?” John asked in a low voice. He knew the answer already, for it was crushing to see their friend in such a state.

“I’ve just… never thought I’d see  _ Charles  _ like this,” Jack whispered, lighting a lamp.

“Me neither. But you and I have both been there, and he helped us through it. I’m confident we can do the same for him,” John said softly. 

Jack nodded, a determined look replacing the worry.

They hung the lamps in various places, eliminating the majority of places any shadows could pop up, then settled down next to Charles. Jack plopped down on the floor next to the low bed and John perched on the edge with the latest version of the mythology he was working. He and Jack proceeded to discuss it, asking Charles questions every now and then. He didn’t say a word, just nodded in agreement. John wasn’t too worried about his silence, for Charles appeared quite content just to listen to them and hear them. 

Not too long later, his eyes slipped shut, and the tremors slowly ceased as he fell asleep. 

John and Jack kept talking.

After a time, Bert came down to check on them. John asked him a few questions about the Geographica and hooked him into the conversation too. They continued speaking well into the night, letting their voices and quiet laughter sink into Charles’ subconscious mind.

 

* * *

 

The next morning Charles woke with a weight on his chest. He opened his eyes sluggishly and discovered a blurry black and white blob hovering over him.

“I think you’ll be needin’ these.”

Charles froze at the sound of the familiar voice. Tummeler took the stillness and unfocused stare as a sign that Charles could not see his glasses and therefore could not take them. So the badger slid them gently onto his face, being careful of the slight bruise on the side of his face.

“That be quite a whopper you got there,” Tummeler commented, gesturing to his face. “Bert said you had a big fall.”

Charles briefly touched the spot and drew his hand back as a dull pain emanated from it. 

“Well, don’t touch it,” chided the badger. He wrung his paws as he usually did when he was worried. “You had me worried, I thought you might not wake up today.”

When Charles didn’t answer immediately, Tummeler shuffled closer, snuffling his nose, and inspecting him. “Be ye alright, Scowler Charles?” he asked worriedly.

In response, Charles hugged the mammal, taking him by surprise at first. But Tummeler wrapped his arms around the slight human and patted his head.

“There, there, Charles. It’ll be alright. I heard you was comin’ an’ I made blueberry muffins for us. Sound good?” Tummeler asked. Charles smiled into his fur and nodded as they pulled away. 

“That sounds really good, Tummeler,” Charles said.

“Great. We should probably wake these two,” the badger said. Charles looked around him and saw John asleep, slumped over on the wall, and Jack sprawled out on the floor. Tummeler poked at their faces with his nose, successfully waking them up. They blinked drowsily, and Charles could tell they were both going to be sore. 

However, they were both sitting up at once, all their attention on him.

“Charles! How are you feeling?” Jack asked.

“Better,” he answered, a tad sheepish.

John and Jack grinned in relief, and Charles smiled too at the sight of seeing them still in perfect health.

“You didn’t really have to stay right here all night,” Charles started.

“Yes we did,” Jack responded immediately.

“What would we have done otherwise?” John said. He winced as he stood up.

Charles raised an eyebrow. “Moved to the hammocks. The one’s hanging right there,” he suggested.

“Oh don’t be smart,” Jack grumbled good-naturedly.

Charles chuckled and John and Jack exchanged glances of relief.

“A’right you three,” interjected Tummeler, “Let’s go get you fed.”

“Flawless idea, Tummeler,” John agreed, stretching as Jack and Charles rose to their feet. They left the Indigo Dragon, side by side, with Charles safely in the middle, and followed Tummeler through the streets in the warm, golden sunlight of the morning.

 

* * *

 

In the weeks that were to follow, Charles would have nightmares, but John and Jack never failed to show when he needed them. They stayed close and were always game for a cup of tea when he called them in the odd hours of the late night or early morning.  They’d discuss the Archipelago, their books, other people’s books and studies, and there was always an underlying layer of understanding through all of them. They would always be there for each other, and even hell itself could not change that.

**Author's Note:**

> screams into the void


End file.
